


Faultlines

by fletchfeathers



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: M/M, gay implied, i finally dropped some angst whoops, talon has a pity party i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 04:31:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13803450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fletchfeathers/pseuds/fletchfeathers
Summary: Assuming they make it through the night, Talon makes a mental note to, if nothing else at all, apologise to Tris first thing in the morning. It won't undo what he's done, and maybe Tris won't forgive him, and maybe neither will the others. But, he reasons, it's better than nothing.





	Faultlines

Talon Firadel is a dumb fucking idiot.

He's too tense to sleep, tightly wound after the fucking day he just had in a way he hasn't been since - well. Since, before.

So he paces restlessly, checks and re-checks and re-checks the makeshift alarm system he's set, keeps a hand at his belt to ensure his daggers still sit in their sheaths. His eyes are so sore, so heavy, and his whole body screams at him to rest; but every breath of wind and rustle of undergrowth has him back on high alert, terrified at the thought of being captured, of what they might do to -

Well, not to him, really, as much as what they might to do Tris.

 _Fuck_ , Tris.

Talon flops back against a tree with a sigh that rushes right out of him, scrubbing his face with his hands. The rain took care of most of the blood, but there's still some crusted under his nails and in the creases of his palms. Talon can smell it, bitter and sharp, the most prominent reminder that today wasn't just some bizarre fucking fever dream.

He hadn't meant to drag Tris into this, and yet.

He chances a glance over to where Tris is (Talon assumes) sleeping, curled in a tight ball in his bedroll with his back to Talon, and honestly wants to kick himself until his legs break.

Of _course_ he fucked this up. Of course Talon, king of spectacularly ruining every good thing that comes his way, had fucked this up. He doesn't know how he'd ever expected anything else.

He doesn't blame Tris for barely speaking a word to him since Talon had found him, for never quite meeting his eyes. He _definitely_ doesn't blame Tris for punching him. None of this was Tris' fault - all of this, everything that had happened, had been because Talon had dragged him into it in one way or another. He'd goaded Tris into drinking at the tavern. His recklessness had gotten Tris arrested in the first place, and then, when he'd tried to fix it -

It's no excuse, not really, but he'd panicked. He'd not known what else to do except - that. It almost didn't matter that the guard had survived after all; and, if he's truly honest with himself, he almost doesn't care. It's not like he's not killed anything, or anyone, before.

Just, in that moment, he'd had the fucking _audacity_ to forget that it wasn't just himself who would have to deal with this later.

The thing is? It had been going so _well_. Or, at the very least, it had been _going_. Talon liked Tris, sure -  _really_ liked Tris - and he was pretty sure Tris liked him in some capacity, and even Mhéirí and Kibble and Quick Branch had kept him around. He finally, after so long, had something in these four worth keeping.

He thinks of Mhéirí, her eyes glassy with tears, calling him her friend.

Fucking _hell_.

He paces another restless circle around the clearing, checking the strings and bells strung between the foliage almost unconsciously.

He hadn't even _apologised_.

Gods only knew what had befallen the other three after their quick departure from the town, and here was Tris, completely innocent of everything except fucking _trusting_ Talon, of all things, to get him to safety - and he couldn't even do that.

Tris stirs in his sleep, makes a soft, mewling sound as he shifts his position, and Talon's heart fucking breaks for him, stuck out here in the ass-end of nowhere, running for his life, because of Talon.

Assuming they make it through the night, Talon makes a mental note to, if nothing else at all, apologise to Tris first thing in the morning. It won't undo what he's done, and maybe Tris won't forgive him, and maybe neither will the others. But, he reasons, it's better than nothing.

-

Miraculously, Talon manages to snatch a few hours' sleep, if only because he can't force his eyes to stay open all night. Tris wakes first, a little over half an hour before Talon surfaces, and is nervously nibbling on some rations when one of the alarm bells sounds.

Before Tris can even acknowledge that Talon is awake, Talon's daggers are unsheathed, his whole body tensed ready to fight for their lives, and Tris' hand is at his holy symbol, grey-green magic already crackling at his fingertips.

The relief that rushes through them when a familiar voice calls out - and when a familiar centaur steps over the string, followed by an equally familiar Tabaxi and gnome - is genuinely palpable. Tris moves first, launching himself at Mhéirí to hug her tightly, and Talon feels himself relax for maybe the first time since yesterday.

But there's no time, not really, for them to really talk. Mhéirí explains that the town's guard captain wants to offer them a task in exchange for pardoning Talon and Tris. Talon refuses to believe it's that easy, can't shake the feeling that they're walking themselves straight to the executioner's block, but complies if only because he owes the others that much.

And, as it turns out, it really does seem to be that easy. Talon makes an attempt to explain himself as honestly as he can, to pick his words carefully for once in his life, and they're sent on their way to deal with the illusionist out in the forest.

Everything happens kind of in a rush, is the thing. He just wants to get Tris alone, just for a few minutes, just to talk - but there's so much to do and so little time, and he doesn't get the chance.

The whole thing kind of leaves his head for a minute when they wind up in another illusion, and partway through a fight Tris - has wings? And Talon kind of doesn't really have time to process anything other than holy _fuck_ , because Tris is literally _glowing_ and he has _wings_ and there's a ferocity to him that Talon could have never seen coming and he's _floored_. For a second, he even forgets that there's all this bullshit he needs to take care of, because Tris is just so fucking _resplendent_ in this moment that there's not much else he can do but try to take it all in.

And then, just like that, they're on their way to fight more gnolls, and that's the next thing Talon has to devote his full attention to.

But there'll be time after this. There's got to be, because he can't let Tris go without knowing.

Except.

These asshole dogs are really taking their time to go down, and Talon just can't seem to get a hit off on them.

By the time Talon realises he really is in trouble, the healers preoccupied and Quick Branch trying to stay out of reach while she recovers from her own wounds, there's not much he can do beside steel himself and resolve that he won't go down without a fight.

The hyena behind him launches at his back, the force knocking the wind out of him, and when enormous fangs sink into his shoulder he's out cold before he even hits the ground.

But he thinks, before his vision is swallowed by darkness, about golden curls in the sunlight and a smile that never fails to melt the cold right out of him, and -

And, Gods, he's _sorry_.

**Author's Note:**

> so uhhhh WHOOPS talon died last session bc brendon is Bad At D&D(tm) but i wanted to whip up a quick lil sad drabble for him bc why not i guess!! woo! 
> 
> also this is very written in one go at 2am, so apologies if it reads like that lmao


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